That One Job
by Teyerin
Summary: What happens to the Winchesters when two observers interfere?


That One Job

Disclaimer, own nothing of Bellesario's or Kripke's.

"All Hell Breaks Loose – Part Two" with interventions. Takes place after the Quantum Leap series finale and Supernatural's 2nd season finale. Have only watched seasons 1-3 of Supernatural completely (and no, not in order – don't ask). Thank you "V" for proofing this!

"What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do?" The young man paced the dilapidated room, red eyed, tear-streamed face. "What am I supposed to do?"

Retired Admiral Albert Calavicci watched, torn and sympathetic to the boy's plight. The older man knew the pain of losing a younger sibling, the only other soul given permission to take hold of a well-guarded heart. Al had one job, too – to protect his younger sister, Trudy. She had died, taken away from him, supposedly of pneumonia. The void in his heart was still there, smaller, but ever present.

Not this older brother and not this kid now lying dead on the bed. The younger sibling's death was more violent, witnessed by the one who was a few steps too slow, too late. Al saw how and felt the knife pierce _him_ in the heart.

Al wanted to right this wrong, take this one job and make the brotherly partnership whole again.

"Hang in there, kid," Al said to the boy who couldn't see him. "Just hang in there a little while longer."

(Calavicci Residence)

Beth Calavicci shook her husband awake. "Al, sweetie, you're dreaming again." She took the hand-link away from him and set it on the nightstand before turning the lamp on. "Al."

She let out a sigh of relief as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The heartache was still etched in his face, however. "We have to save Sam to save him."

Beth smiled to herself. Just like her husband to go into a protective mode no matter what. "To save whom, dear," she asked, certain that her husband's best friend was always on his mind. She watched as he bolted from the bed, grabbing the robe at the foot of it and then vanished.

She followed him, and listened in to the conversation taking place on the wireless.

"I _know_ what you told me, Samantha Jo," Al said now leaning forward against the desk. "But, I need you to help me-."

Samantha Jo Fuller asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Trudy," he said to the woman on the other side. "I was dreaming about Trudy and then next thing I know, I'm seeing this kid in a similar spot – losing a loved one, I mean. It was as though I leaped and yet I know-."

Beth saw the woman draw a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a yawn. "That was one of the modifications I was making with Ziggy. It wasn't finished or tested yet, so that's why I told you-."

"Never mind," Al said, pacing now. "We gotta help him, Samantha. I haven't asked Ziggy why, but I _know_ in my heart we have to-."

"Will this wait until morning?"

Beth laughed quietly. She knew the answer before her husband barked it. It was one thing to lose the best man from their wedding – a temporal impossibility, but she knew. But since Dr. Samuel Beckett never returned for good – oh, there were a few 'long stays' but nothing to let her or the other team properly rest – Al couldn't stay still.

"Fine, I'll be there in one minute," Samantha Jo Fuller said.

Once the screen faded to black, Beth went to him and led him into the kitchen. "Want to talk about it?" He nodded. What Beth heard surprised and saddened her.

(Devil's Crossroads)

Zoey hated working alone. But ever since Alia was rescued by Dr. Beckett, safe on the more heavenly side, the one-time senior observer had no choice.

The maddening thing, having lost her protégé, was working beside herself. It was one thing to talk to one's self, but to doubly live the disaster in progress wore her out, wore her down.

No, Zoey didn't envy Alia anymore, not really. And given what she had heard in the murmurings now, she wanted out, too. Of course, whether she succeeded or failed, there would be hell to pay.

As it stood now, she had a snowball's chance of accomplishing what she needed to do, especially if the young man she saw now was as troublesome as she had heard.

(Calavicci Residence)

"So, could we control this leap? Could we get your father to get to those boys in time, to- I don't know."

Al didn't want to be in his office at home. He wanted to be outside the accelerator and then inside the imaging chamber. True, some changes had been done, but would they be the right ones he needed right now?

Samantha Jo looked at the plans she had recently designed and then adjusted her wristwatch. "We could. But the fact that Ziggy still hasn't told you anything-."

"Forget Ziggy! Can we do it?" Samantha Jo Fuller nodded. "Good, then what are we waiting for?"

Samantha didn't answer him as she removed a thin packet from her pocket and unfolded it, setting it in the middle of the room.

"Wh- what are you doing, Sammy? Samantha Jo," he demanded as she stepped into the center of a diagram, a clicker in hand. A familiar shimmering blue light began to form around her. "Sammy?"

The woman smiled, reminding Al of his lost friend. "Following in my father's footsteps."

(Devil's Crossroads)

Dean Winchester prepared to scoop the rest of the dirt over the box when someone kicked it away, keeping the box exposed. "What the h-?"

"Let's just say some deals aren't going to be made," the short-haired brunette woman said with a glint in her eye. "Are you so desperate to follow in your father's footsteps?"

He stumbled back, a futile effort to fill the hole in once more. He was seeing double. There was no demonic explanation for seeing double, no matter the strength of the spell. Then again, if the Crossroads Demon decided on a 'twin' approach because of what happened last time, then he'd have twice as many demons to send back. "Why not? Why won't you deal – either of you?" He glared at the woman closest to the wooden water tank where the Devil's Trap was once drawn, now faded away and useless.

Zoey was taken aback but regained her composure quickly. "I'm impressed. Usually, it's only dogs, children and the mentally unstable who can see me. Since you're no animal-."

"That means I'm crazy," Dean retorted. "Fine, so be it!"

"A child," she said in a disappointed tone. "A child too young to fight this war that's already claimed your father. You hurt for him. I remembered what that felt like. But you're not making an accepted offer."

"Let me have Sam back. Please? Take me tomorrow if it means I have him back just-."

Her corporeal form stepped closer to the lad, raising a finger. "Only thing you're going to have, my sweet, dear Dean Winchester, is a horrible, terrible dream." With that, she touched his forehead.

Then the scenery around her changed.

(Calavicci Residence)

Al watched in amazement, bewilderment and concern as his best friend's daughter vanished.

He nearly jumped out of his skin to find someone standing nearby. Well, once standing but now collapsing, caught in Beth's capable arms.

"How-?" he asked. Instead, Beth handed the individual to her husband before grabbing a towel and a glass of water from the kitchen. "Son, can you hear me," Al asked.

This didn't make any sense to the former observer. The person being leapt into was supposed to be in the imaging chamber. Then again, Sammy Jo vanished _without_ it. What else was possible?

"What's your name, son?"

The young man accepted the water greedily, not protesting Beth's gesture of wiping away the dirt and perspiration. "Win- Winchester. Dean Winchester."

(Elsewhere/Nowhere)

Sam Winchester didn't see the bright light of Heaven or the flames of Hell. In fact, he saw and felt nothing at all. Yet there was a subtle scent of something. Then he heard a humming.

"Where am I," he asked

"Neither here nor there," the woman answered, her voice to the right of him now.

He reached out, hoping to grasp something, only to miss, only to hear amused laughter.

"Sorry, sweetheart," she said, the void turning a lighter shade of grey allowing Sam to see her now. "Untouchable."

Sam tilted his head to one side. "Am I in heaven? If so, I want to see my mother."

The short-haired brunette shook her head. "Nope, not heaven."

Sam grunted. "If I'm in Hell, bring that yellow-eyed-." She shook her head again. "I want to see my father, then."

"Ouch, quite a way to describe your home life. No, can't do that either. You are where and when I determine, in your ribbon of life, to be."

"What devilish, demonic crap is that?"

Zoey held the ribbon loosely in her hand. She had seen what the future was; aware of the future to come; and fearful of the future unknown if what she had strategized went, to borrow a phrase from her counterpart, a bit _caca_.

"Sam Winchester, life is Hell, no one argues that. And yet there _are_ higher powers, too." Zoey silently muttered the same prayer, aware that she was putting her faith in Team Calavicci and Fuller – Beckett notwithstanding. She was thankful Beckett hadn't quit because she needed someone to balance all that she had to do. If he had left, then no one stood a chance.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't answer right away, deciding on making a confession instead. "It's my job to make people's lives as miserable as possible. Working alone at that for some time, now and it sucks – being alone, I mean. Did you imagine what it's like to be alone, Sam?"

She could do it, show Sam all the futures she knew of at once. But that would be too much, too soon, too dangerous.

(Calavicci Residence)

"All right, Dean," Al said as he and Beth helped the boy to the couch. "I'm Al; this is Beth."

She watched as her husband kept a stoic expression on his face, thankful that the girls weren't home. As for Dean, the poor child looked lost. "More water," she asked before Al danced about a gentle interrogation. Dean nodded.

From the other room, she could hear that tone Al perfected when he took over leading the project, that 'devil-may-care-we're-on-angel's-wings' tone that masked the whirlwind worry most likely spinning in his mind.

"What's the last thing you remember, Dean?"

The boy relayed the circumstances, complete with heartbreaking details that she had heard her husband say less than an hour ago.

"I've got to help Sammy," he said. "I've got-."

Beth and Al quickly placed their hands on his shoulders and eased him back onto the couch. Assured that Dean wasn't going to try again, Beth took Al's place as he retrieved the hand-link from the other room. He returned with a frown.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

(Elsewhere/Nowhere)

"What's wrong with Dean?" Sam wheeled on the woman, the unknown demon beside him. "_What's_ wrong with Dean?"

He could see his older brother in pain but heard nothing. The scene seemed to rewind back to the beginning, his big brother sitting in a chair, a lost look on his face. And this time he heard.

"_I wanted you to quit asking, Sammy. I wanted you to stay a kid just a little while longer… I always tried to protect you, that was my job, my _one_ job…and I failed."_

Zoey edited out Dead Sam on the bed. The view of that would have been too much, she thought. As it was, in part keeping up with her job of making people's lives miserable, in part wanting – no, _needing_ Sam to hear the cost in hopes of preventing-.

She could tell him. Tell Sam about the same deal made like their father before them. But she knew the result, knew of the upcoming wars and havoc and chaos that would follow, knew that rebels like Ruby and the Trickster were on to something.

That was the reason she willed someone on the Project Quantum Leap to make manipulative changes now. That was the reason she willed the good-hearted admiral to make the discovery as she stood on the other side of that same dilapidated room. It wasn't just to right the wrong she brought on Bobby Singer and Ella Harvelle. Zoey needed intervention to prevent the war of all wars, aware that there would be hell to pay if and when she was found out.

"What is this?"

"Your brother's heart, breaking," Zoey said, praying it was being mended elsewhere.

(Calavicci Residence)

"Um, look, I don't usually do this," Al said, quickening his steps towards the others, "but, um… I think you can handle the truth."

"Truth? What truth? Why can't I go help Sammy?"

Al stole a glance at his wife. Her loving face assured him that whatever it was he was about to do would be for the right reasons. That's all he needed to know.

"We're going to save your brother, Dean. Our friend, our Sammy is, I mean, has- or is it will be? Anyway, our Sammy's taking the place of your Sammy. She's going to succeed in keeping him alive, keep him from dying."

"_She_," Dean repeated. "My brother's place has been taken by a girl? That guy stabbed Sam in the _back!_ How is she going to-?"

Al watched as the pattern on the mat on the floor changed into a large view screen, allowing the trio to watch as Samantha Jo Fuller, as Sam Winchester, fought off the attacker from behind, allowing Bobby Singer to apprehend the fighter, allowing Dean to pull his brother away.

(Elsewhere/Nowhere)

"The next thing you'll tell me is that I _am_ dead and that this is all some horrible dream."

"No, you're just not in your own body now." Zoey felt it, the rare tingling of the 'other side's' leap and alterations.

"I'm having an out-of-body experience?" Sam repeated with disbelief. "How do I know you're not a Djinn just-?"

Zoey silenced him as she pointed to the scene dissolving before them. "Do you want that to come to reality? If your brother lost you, he's lost."

She kept to herself that had Dean Winchester won in making a deal with the Crossroads Demon, the world would have been lost in the galactic fallout to follow. Right now, she didn't worry about her own fate so much. And that odd thought comforted her.

(Calavicci Residence)

Al couldn't explain it, but he felt calm. Somehow, he knew that Sam would survive, that Dean would be all right. Why Ziggy never found any mention of them was of no consequence right now.

He focused on the young man beside him, anxiety replaced with relief as tears streamed down the young face. The would-be-killer did not run free, but bound. The brothers' embrace was now not of sorrow but of joy.

Whatever lay ahead of these two boys, Al hoped that they'd face it with fewer scars and less pain.

More importantly, Al thought, they'd face it, together.


End file.
